


Of chocolate and friendship

by SerenePhenix



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Books, Easter, Forgiveness, Friendship, Gen, Helpfulness, Spoilers, Warren - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-07 00:44:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/742119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenePhenix/pseuds/SerenePhenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few years have passed since the Easter incident and now on the very same holiday Jack wants to make sure to fix his mistakes. Hopefully Bunnymund will just be as willing to forgive and forget... </p><p>Alert! Spoilers to the books!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of chocolate and friendship

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Easter to you all!

Of chocolates and friendship

  
  
_A Rise of the Guardians one-shot by SerenePhenix  
_   


* * *

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Jack did not know what would await him down the tunnel towards the Easter Bunny’s warren. In all honesty all he had been told was that the oversized fluffy Guardian might be in need of assistance and that he was the only one available for the job. His blue eyes darted from one side to the other, expecting some of the stone egg warriors to jump out of a hidden corner and block the passage. He clamped down on his powers a bit, so that it would not get any colder. A change in temperature might alert someone and he still was not all that sure if this was such a good idea.

He snorted as he thought how it had come down to this.

When North had come towards him with the request, he couldn’t help but be intrigued seeing that Easter was coming their way fast and he knew for one thing that the Pooka had other problems than taking care of a winter spirit that might easily get bored in a peaceful place with nothing to do (he was sure Bunny would not let him touch anything).

When he had voiced his concerns regarding that matter, the big Russian had just laughed heartily as though it was a good joke, slapping Jack’s back so forcefully it nearly drove the smaller spirit to his knees.

Also, there was that thing about Bunny not having let him come close to the Warren ever since the fiasco he had caused around the time he himself had become an official protector of the children. It stung that trust had yet to come back in that department of their brotherly “frenemy “relationship and as much as he wished he could place the blame on the Nightmare King Pitch Black, who had tricked him into running into his lair with the help of the box containing his memories, he just couldn’t.

He had known he was needed but he had let his emotions drive him, dragging him into a mess that had taken two years to clean up. And even though it hurt and although he had tried to redeem himself and appear trustworthy the Pooka always had found an excuse to keep him away from the place where he let his very own magic work wonders.

So with a heavy heart and with a good amount of reluctance did he accept the task of helping Bunny, who was blissfully unaware just who was going to paint the eggs with him on this holiday. At least that was what Jack thought it was going to be about. North had not been specific but the joyful gleam in the gift bringer’s eyes had made Jack a wee bit nervous.

He sighed, as warm and bright light reached his eyes from the end of the tunnel. Hopefully the Bunny was not going to throw him out the second he saw his tuft of white hair in an otherwise colorful environment. He squinted his eyes at the brightness, his free arm that was not holding onto his staff trying to block some of the light.

Jack gave a sound of stupor as he had to step aside awkwardly when a large group of plain white eggs scuffled just outside of the tunnel. He jumped high and settled down onto the branch of what he guessed was some Asiatic maple. Once he righted himself and took a good look around him he stared, fascinated still even after having witnessed it once already.

The lush green lawn of the garden resembled a gigantic patchwork rug with the white or already colored eggs running over it in groups in egg-formation, unlike the stream he had seen years ago when they had worked as quickly and efficiently as possible.

The sound of the tiny egg-feet was normally barely audible but the sheer mass once again made it sound as if Jack was at the shore of some ocean, with waves crashing against cliffs and sandy dunes.  The valley was bustling with activity and although Jack always liked to claim that he had eyes as sharp as a hawk’s he had to admit that it was hard to pinpoint a certain tuft of blue-grey fur.

He took off again, landing on another high tree’s crown, holding onto the thin trunk with one arm. The river that glistened opalescent was unsupervised, the eggs finding their way easy enough. The gigantic tunnels also showed no signs of a giant fur-ball. He huffed, running out of options as to where Bunnymund could be.

Who knew, maybe he was running an errand?

He was about to decide which of the many unexplored tunnels to take when an irresistibly sweet scent hit his nose. He took a deep breath, his mouth watering. He recognized it but it was so different. He had already smelled it a hundred times in certain towns, like Brussels or Genf over the centuries but never something this exquisite.

His eyes fell onto a cave-like construction on the opposite side of the valley where a bit of steam was lazily drifting out and up through an oval that looked much like an egg too. Strange, he hadn’t noticed that a lot of things in the Warren had that specific shape apart from the eggs and golems themselves. It sure was strange that they were this prominent to him now but he guessed with cotton-tail being the Easter Bunny, it was to be expected.

He leapt off the tree making a beeline for the cave. The grin on his face just grew as the aroma became stronger, so much even that it became nearly overwhelming. His blue eyes darted from left to right as he scanned once again for golems that might want to ruin his fun and once he was sure nothing was going to happen, he entered, curious and excited like a small child about to go find one of the great treasures of the world.

“Wow…”, he breathed once his eyes accustomed to the foggy surroundings. Inside what turned out to be some sort of underground citadel with a round structure that narrowed towards the ceiling, where the vapor of big coppery pots with boiling hot water could escape from. Once he could focus on the things going on around on the ground Jack felt his jaw go slack. Egg golems were standing in long rows in front of other pots which were black in color.

Unlike the golems he was used to these possessed thin little arms they used to stir whatever was in the pots in front of them with wooden cooking spoons like no human would have been able to hold because of their size. Other, exotic golems were also in the mix, completely made of metal plates, running around delivering things to their stone equals.

He chuckled, going into a sprint and climbing on the golem next to him, sitting down on its ‘head’, so as to be able to see what was inside the pots that outdid by a good few inches. His eyes lightened when he saw his guess being right and again his mouth watered. Liquid chocolate was being stirred inside it, hence the scent he had picked up. O, how much he just wanted to taste it.

Carefully, he hooked the crooked end of his staff under the pit of the golem’s arm (which didn’t seem to be in the least bit bothered by his presence) and slowly edged closer to the warm substance, a tight grip on his staff all the while. His outstretched right nearly came into contact with the dark brown liquid that just begged to be eaten when the yell of an all too familiar voice startled him, making him lose his grip on the staff and narrowly missing the pot, landing on the ground instead.

He looked up spooked and wide-eyed, trying to make out the figure he initially had been looking for before he got… side-tracked.

“Whose there?”, came Bunnymund’s harsh tone, although there was no sign of him yet. Feeling like a child that had been caught doing something naughty, Jack hastily got up and dusted himself down and retrieved his staff just in time before Bunny squeezed himself between two golems that were standing in his way.

They stared at each other in surprise. Jack was convinced that his jaw ha finally disconnected. Bunny looked nothing like… well, like Bunny he concluded. Standing upright before him was the blue rabbit, sporting an Asiatic looking coat that was just as green as the grass outside, with a high red collar. An apron of equally red coloring was hanging around his waist, various object and what seemed to be ingredients sticking out of different pockets sewed on it. The most interesting though were the egg-shaped  buttons adorning the clothing and green glasses of a similar design which Bunny raised to get a better look at the skinny boy in front of him.

“Frostbite?”, he asked, disbelieve in his eyes. Jack tried to smile innocently but he himself could feel that it was probably more like a grimace since his muscles told him it could never be a smile by the way they ached.

He gave up, scratching his neck nervously before waving at the Easter Bunny nervously.

“Hi, Bunny.”

The Pooka stared some more, tucking his glasses on his forehead. His green eyes were scrutinizing Jack, looking the boy up and down. Jack for his part averted his gaze, scratching up a bit of dirt with the tip of his staff. Somehow he felt a little awkward and silly being inspected like that.

“How come ya’ ‘ere?”, asked the Bunny coming closer, his muzzle twitching, making his whiskers bop up and down.

Seeing this as a challenge to prove his composure Jack took a more confident stance, smiling mischievously: “I came to see how you were doing. Need a hand?”

Instead of the usual outburst this would trigger from the Guardian of hope, Bunnymund stayed silent, simply looking at him some more. That in itself made Jack more uneasy than one of Pitch’s little mind-games. Bunny normally could not stand it when he displayed himself as the overconfident cocky spirit that always wanted to tease him. At least, that was what Jack believed was what Bunnymund was seeing in him, even if he himself did not find it that charming.

The blue muzzle just twitched further and by now Jack wasn’t sure anymore if it was really Bunnymund he was talking to. After all, the fluff-ball he knew was irritable and always ready to share his thoughts – in his very own way mind you. Him being this quiet was unnerving and made it hard to judge how he would react.

Bunnymund finally crossed his paws over his chest, inclining his head slightly to the left.

“Ya’ didn’t answa my question, mate. Why are ya’ here? Where’s North? ”

It sounded reproachful and Jack felt a knot forming in his stomach, making him hold his staff just a little more closer. Of course Bunnymund would not accept his help, once he answered he’d probably be sent away.

He frowned, not looking at his fellow Guardian: “He is busy, okay.”

Bunny simply answered by raising an eyebrow judgingly. Christmas had been around three months ago and there were still nine to go before North hit his deadline. Saying that the Guardian of Wonder was busy at this time of the year was simply ridiculous.

“I’m not lying!”, Jack shot back testily once he noticed the way Bunny looked at him, seemingly not in the least convinced by what he had said, “He told me to come and help you but if you don’t want me to, fine, I’ll just go and…”

He had been in the middle of turning around, about to elaborate how he would just go and visit some penguin friends of his when Bunnymund’s hurried voice interrupted him.

“Jack, wait.”

He glanced back over his shoulder, blinking when he noticed the Pooka stroking his chin with a paw, throwing him a contemplative look. Jack waited with baited breath, taken by surprise that he had been called by his actual name and not some nickname.

Hope filled him and made his fingers tingle like there were tiny insects scurrying over them. After a moment, the Pooka sighed, running a hand over his face.

“A’ might need some help but I warn ya’.”, he threatened, prodding him with his paw in the chest with a little too much force but Jack just ignored it, “Ya’ do what a’ say and ya’ don’t try eatin’ from the chocolate again.”

Jack cringed somewhat, now being sure he had been caught in the act but smiled innocently while Bunny snorted in reply. The Pooka turned, robe flapping around his heels, beckoning Jack to follow him deeper into the cave.

“Come this way. Ya’ll have to run errands with the machine eggs.”, he shouted over the noise.

The smile on the winter spirits face could have lit the sky.

* * *

 

It was evening (at least he guessed it was) when Jack and Bunnymund both sat atop a hill, watching the eggs getting ready for their big day. One thing Jack knew for sure was that tomorrow was Easter. He yawned and stretched out on the soft grass. Boy, he couldn’t remember a time when he had worked harder, not even as Jackson Overland, who had had to go hunt with his father to get something on the table to eat.

He had been running around, tending to small lost eggs and showing them the right way, helped in the cave to transport ingredients, items and instructions even from point A to B and all under Bunnymund’s watchful eye. Saying that he asked just a few questions about how for example the pots worked, why he was wearing such a strange attire, what the metal golems were made of and the like, would have been an insult to the Pooka who had tried his best at answering everything that was of interest to the teenager.

“Ya’ tired frostbite?”, the Pooka asked in mock-amusement, a tiny smile on his muzzle. He had taken off the robe and glasses, storing them somewhere save and out of reach of the winter bringer who had tried to get his nimble fingers on them on more than just one occasion.

“Not really.”, Jack replied, suppressing another yawn just barely. Okay, maybe he wasn’t being all honest and by the way Bunny smirked he knew too. He was glad that he’d been given a second chance, s unexpected as it was. It made him feel so much lighter, better, as though he could take on the world.

His face fell somewhat as one thought sneaked past these feelings of happiness. A thought that simply came with hundreds of years of struggling and loneliness: that it had been too easy after everything that had happened between them. It had already been present the moment Bunny had told him to follow and he had quite successfully pushed to the back of his mind but now that they were sitting quietly the nasty voice became harder to ignore.

“Bunny.”

The Pooka made a sound that he was listening and Jack did his best to avoid eye contact. He swallowed, searching for the right words. Bunnymund beat him to it.

“Ya’ wanna know why I forgave ya’?”

Jack flushed violet in embarrassment. Was he truly that easy to read? Bunnymund did not comment on his companion’s flustered state. He would be the last one to make fun of that, since he himself had a hard time putting his feelings into words. He knew what was going through the boy’s head, or at least he thought he had an idea of what was on his mind.

He also had been thinking along the same lines when the boy had been standing in the ‘chocolaterie’ asking if he needed his help. In all honesty, the first thing he had wanted to do was to shoo the little troublemaker away. He had other things to tend to than a youngster who would most probably try to get to snatch some of the candies he was making but an argument he had had with North very recently had him made reconsider.

On Christmas Eve North had taken him aside while Tooth, Sandy and Jack were distracted with a game of poker. After a long fore-speech about the holiday of friendship and closeness that is Christmas, he finally came to the point that he seemed to deem important, the actual reason why he had wanted to talk to him in private: _“Iz it so hard to forgive the boy?”_

The question had literally shocked him out of his mind because it had been so unexpected and right then Bunny hadn’t had an answer to it. He did not know if he truly had forgiven their youngest member just yet. He appreciated him like one would a brother, a very annoying younger brother at that, but a sibling nonetheless. Even if said sibling sometimes was hard to talk to and even harder to conciliate with when he pulled one of his latest pranks.

But Bunny knew it hadn’t been about some stupid prank. He knew that North had been talking about the Easter that Pitch had ruined by tricking Jack.

On that same evening he had excused himself earlier than usual and went to the Warrens, unable to face both the Russian and the boy. It had been years ago and Bunny had come to the realization that indeed, he had not forgiven Frost for his neglect. He was well aware that the boy had tried to make up for it time and time again, yet he himself was not ready to trust him just yet.

The reminder of what solitude (even the one you imposed on yourself) felt like had been painful. It was something Bunnymund had managed to forget with the help of his fellow Guardians and it had been brought back to the surface painfully by that child walking through him as if he was air.

The fact that it might not have happened at all if Jack had been there had made it hard for him to truly let go of his ill feelings.

So today, when Jack had stood there, still trying after all his fruitless attempts Bunny had felt touched and proud. It had been just the push he needed.

“I guess it was time.”, he said trying to condense all of these thoughts into this one sentence.

Jack for his part turned his head towards him, giving him a questioning look. He did not seem convinced and Bunny knew it was to be expected, seeing that their friendship had always been a bit strained even if it had improved greatly over the past years. Also, the side-effect to being left alone on your own was that it became to believe people’s word.

The winter spirit bit at his bottom lip, glancing from one side to the next nervously.

“You really mean it?”, Jack mumbled and Bunny was glad he had such sensitive ears, otherwise he would have missed it.

“Yes, a’ do.”

Jack sat up, cross-legged and turned towards him slightly.

“You don’t say that just to make me feel better?”, he asked warily, eying the Pooka as though daring him to lie.

Bunnymund huffed, offended by Jack’s excessive mistrust: “A’ course, a’ say to make ya’ feel better but also becaus’ a’ mean it, frostbite. Why is it sa’ impotant for ya’ anyway?”

Jack blushed that tell-tale shade of purple and Bunny knew that this was where the discussion came to its end.

“Be- because it is. Okay? I just wanted to show you I’m not a screw-up. And I did that just fine, didn’t I?”

Groaning, Jack ran both his hands through his hair, amusing Bunn to no end. But the laugh that had crept up his throat died a little as he noticed something. Jack often acted rash and like a child that did not care about what others said about him but deep down Bunny had come to understand that actually Jack more often than not tried to show everyone his usefulness in hopes of being acknowledged – be it human or spirit.

Could this also been the reason why he had been so driven? Probably and he just knew what to do to help that.

Bunnymund smiled and patted Jack on the head affectionately like he knew his own father must have done at some point in time, long ago, before their kind was destroyed.

“That’s true, ya’ did just fine.”

There were so many emotions racing across that face, ranging from gratitude to relief to pure bliss. But what came next was truly unexpected:

“If so,”, Jack cooed, getting up and an impish glint in his blue eyes that could only mean one thing, “you won’t mind if I borrow these?”

And with that he took a pair of green, egg-shaped glasses out of the pocket of his hoodie, placing them on his nose with a huge grin.

“Ha, only if ya’ can run fast enough from me, mate.”, Bunnymund challenged sprinting after the troublesome spirit with lightning speed. He would find out soon enough how the little brat got his hands on them later.

There would still be enough Easters to make up for each other’s neglect.

* * *


End file.
